


Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [54]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fever, Fluff, Nausea, Scars, Sick Character, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Summary: Piper takes a sick day, Spencer gets worried and foods are experimented with as nicknames.
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 18





	Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever

Spencer had a bad habit of ducking through doorways, even though the elevator doors were an easy foot taller than him. He carried two warm cups in his hand, a spiced chai latte for Piper and his own. He smiled to himself as Anderson opened the glass double doors before sidling past him. His girlfriend, he’d never get used to saying that, had taken it upon herself to get Spencer off caffeine. It hadn’t gone well until she told him that she’d have to drink coffee every time he did. It was working so far, in that every time he almost poured himself a cup of coffee, he’d remember every bad thing his mom and Piper had ever said about too much caffeine. He’d cursed his memory and settled for a soothing cup of ginger tea.

Spencer looked up to see their corner of the bullpen empty save for his pile of pending paperwork and consultancies. That was strange, he noted. Piper was notorious for waking up unnaturally early and as such, getting to work at exactly 8 am. Dismissing it as just a trip to the bathroom, he set the cup on her desk, before remembering her distaste for stains. Her discomfort had been challenged once by Derek who had called her ‘OCD’ and proceeded to challenge her. She’d get 10 bucks if she didn’t wipe away the mug stains on her desk for the next hour. Suffice it to say, she’d failed miserably, snapping at everyone who spoke a word to her and egregiously misspelling her report. Eventually, she’d shoved the takeaway cup she hadn’t even raised to her lips into the garbage before wiping down the desk. Unfortunately, she was exactly 40 seconds from winning the bet. Spencer placed the cup gently on a counter before settling into his seat. Emily arrived a few minutes later, a latte held firmly in her hand. “No Piper?” Emily asked, slipping into her seat.

“Haven’t seen her yet,” Spencer replied uneasily. He glanced at his watch.

“Maybe she’s with Penelope. She’s been having a rough time with JJ gone.” Spencer leaned back into his chair.

“You think we’ll get her back?”

“I hope so. We need her. I don’t know how we do this job without a communications liaison.” Spencer nodded, taking in a deep breath.

“We still have to do the job,” Spencer sighed, glancing over at Piper’s desk. She always knew how to make his fears go away. He remembered when he’d first told her about his addiction, how forgiving she’d been. That was before he knew she’d battled it before. But she had this magical way of making everything feel so much simpler. “She should be here by now,” he murmured.

“Maybe she took a day off,” Emily shrugged. “I know Rossi took a few days to work on his book.” Spencer nodded, a little uneasy. He was about to dive into his work again until Anderson marched over to Piper’s desk, lifting a large pile of files from her corner across from Spencer’s desk.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked in outrage. Piper would kill anyone who messed up her desk.

“Dr Bishop called me,” Grant said defensively. “Said she wasn’t feeling like coming to work, asked if I’d bring the files to her apartment. I don’t really have anything to do until Gina gets the forensic report from the Maryland case.” Spencer narrowed his eyes and Emily chuckled.

“Let the man do his job, Reid.” Taking it as a cue to leave, Grant pulled the files into a box and left promptly and Spencer tapped on his desk, still thoughtful as he stared at Piper’s empty desk. “My god, Reid, just call her,” Emily groaned as she pulled a file from her desk to start working on and he punched in her number into the dark receiver. It took a few rings until Piper’s stuffy voice filtered through.

_“Anderson, where are my files? **I have work to do, I can’t stay in bed**.”_

“Piper?” He heard muffled curses, and something crash on the other end of the line before her voice came through.

“ _Hello, light of my life, pooh bear. Have I mentioned how much I love you?”_

“Yes, Pipes, is everything okay?”

“ _Yep, just peachy.”_ He heard a muffled cough on the other line.

“Piper, are you sick?”

“ _No… I’m just…tired?”_

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“ _I don’t— **Wait, the room’s spinning again...that’s not normal, is it?** ”_

“No, it isn’t normal. **Honey, you’re not making any sense**.” He was very conscious of Emily’s stifled chuckle on the other side of the desk.

“ _Oh, don’t worry,”_ he heard her say after sneezing loudly. “ _M fone.”_

“Oh, well if your fone, then sure.”

“ _You know, last I checked, they don’t pay you to check my grammar,”_ she grumbled. and Spencer would’ve chuckled if he wasn’t so worried. “ _Besides, it’s like Dr Phil says, **you don’t have a fever if you believe it strong enough**._”

“Okay, that’s it. I’m checking up on you.”

_“No, really, pretzel **, I’m fine. Everyone has colds, you don’t have to** —”_

“Pretzel?” A reluctant giggle spilled from his lips. “You know what, I—I don’t care. I’m coming over.”

 _“No, don’t!”_ But the rest of her protest was deafened by Spencer placing the receiver into his landline.

“What’s up, pretzel?” Emily said, valiantly fighting back a laugh.

“Shut up,” he murmured as he left his seat, almost tripping over himself as he made his way up the steps to Hotch’s office. Emily was still laughing by the time he marched past.

Spencer found Anderson waiting outside Piper’s apartment. “Hey, Dr Reid,” Grant greeted him. “I tried calling her cell, she didn’t pick up. I’ve been waiting for her for 20 minutes and Gina’s almost done with her report—”

“That’s okay. You can give me the files. Besides, I’ve got the spare key.” He watched Anderson leave and carefully tucked the files into his arm before rummaging through his bag for his key. He pushed his shoulder against the door, calling out her name while squeezing through the door. But the sight of his girlfriend collapsed on the floor made him drop the files, rushing to her side. She moaned softly as Spencer rolled her on her back. Piper squeezed her eyes together. He called out her name again, but she just turned to her side.

“Five more minutes, Mama,” she mumbled, and Spencer blinked slowly. Quickly, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, then to her neck.

“Oh, **you’re burning up**.” Ignoring the number of germs that were probably covering her entire body, Spencer slung her arm around his shoulder, slowly lifting her up. He shifted her weight, inching towards the bedroom. Piper was wearing one of his button-ups that he’d left at her apartment and a pair of sweatpants. She’d rolled up the sleeves high enough that her scars were visible. Her university seal glowered against her warm beige skin while faint white lines traced her other arm. Finally, Piper seemed to wake up for a moment and her weight was shared between them until her head hit the mattress and she let out a groan. Spencer retrieved her medical supplies, returning to the familiar room with an armful of various medications and inhalers. “Have you eaten anything?” Piper shook her head thickly.

“Waffles,” she mumbled. “With butter and whipped cream and chocolate and—”

“And DayQuil,” he finished for her as he pressed to fingers to the bridge of her nose, forcing her to open her mouth. He popped the pill in and passed her a glass of water. Grumbling, she swallowed it.

“ **I told you not to come** ,” she said nasally. “You’re gonna get sick, peanut.” He looked up; forehead wrinkled. “Not peanut?” Spencer smiled at her and she looked to the sky to take an enormous sniffle. “I can’t breathe,” she groaned before collapsing backwards onto the mattress.

“How’d you get so sick?” Spencer asked her, fumbling for the thermometer.

“Well, I remember I was really sad about JJ leaving so then I was eating ice cream and then Mrs Jameson came over,” she said deliriously. “She told me her cat got stuck up a tree. I think.” She shot up, sniffed deeply, relieved at being able to breathe for about 2 seconds until her nasal canal was blocked again and she groaned, collapsing sideways. Spencer stuck the thermometer into her mouth and Piper continued the story. “So, I left and what Mrs Jameson forgot to mention was that it was raining.”

“How did you not know it was raining?”

“Because I was blasting Linkin Park. I was sad, remember?”

“Right, duh,” Spencer scoffed, settling down beside the bed as he waited for the thermometer to ping.

“So, there I was, half-way up the tree, only for the cat to jump down. Only issue was, now I was stuck in the tree and it was raining a lot and if I took the wrong step, I’d probably fall.” Piper sighed miserably. “By the time I got home, I had a huge cold and probably a sinus infection. I figured chow mein and sleep would get rid of it. But no, my body can’t fight off a cold without turning into a bloody oven.” Spencer pressed a kiss to Piper’s forehead.

“How ‘bout a cup of tea?” Spencer murmured. “We can watch Doctor Who.” Piper’s eyes drooped and she hummed before shaking her head and wrinkling her forehead.

“No, I’ve got work to do. My paperwork—”

“Really?” Spencer challenged as his gaze hardened, a nearly impossible feat at Piper’s shrunken, stiff, pale body. “Where’s the last case we went on?”

“Baltimore,” she mumbled.

“And the names?”

“Sigmund Petersen and, um, Jilly Boel,” she said, grinning. “Fee, I’m sine!” She wrinkled her nose before the thermometer pinged and Spencer plucked it, careful not to touch the moist end.

“Baby, you’re 110 degrees.”

“That’s me,” she mumbled. “Always 110 per cent.” Spencer shook his head, moving to unravel Piper’s sleeves and tucking her into bed.

“You need to sleep.” Piper tried to mumble something, tried to fight the drowsiness but her body seemed to want to heed Spencer’s words and soon enough she was snoring softly. Spencer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he got up from his uncomfortable seat next to the bed. He figured he’d have an hour before she woke up again, plenty of time to get Penelope to make her signature soup and clean up.

Piper rolled over, her hand migrating to settle under her pillow. Slowly, her eyes opened to find Spencer sitting in bed next to her, reading. “ **Thank you for staying with me,** ” she mumbled. Spencer looked over at her warmly.

“How do you feel?” Piper clutched her head, finding the energy to push herself into a sitting position.

“ **I feel _thoroughly_ disgusting**.” She smiled feebly at Spencer’s chuckle. He never laughed; Piper noted as Spencer adjusted her pillows. Always little chuckles and smiles. Sometimes it was hard to tell when Spencer found something funny, almost never at the moment. Most of the time he found things odd, but he’d always laugh about it after. He reached out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” Piper smiled. She still felt a little weak, but maybe the sickness was worth it if it meant a little love and affection from Spencer.


End file.
